


Silent Woods

by Ravens_little_game



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, Magic, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 23:47:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10501998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravens_little_game/pseuds/Ravens_little_game
Summary: At the end of the day it's all about going home. Going through the daily motions to get where you need to be. Upon learning something new about himself Harry finds himself going to an unknown town where magic is wild and free, a place with people like him.





	

When you live your life knowing each pattern of your day the unexpected does not come to mind. The routines of the day firmly in place with a sense of complacency you go about your business like any other individual. Unless you are the town ghost.

Ms. Myrtle Elizabeth Warren was known to everyone in town as the local ghost. She lived in the large house down the hill where the woods reached out every year to caress the old home. Flowers grew rampant up the yard in an adventurous snarl; a sea of colour in contrast into the glooming chipped paint. Fleck of purple peeled away from old siding and glass turned murky from age. For a house so old it was rather surprising to find that Ms. Myrtle Elizabeth Warren was the only inhabitant that was no longer living. Yet for the people of Null, the fact was that she was always there and would continue to be there for she was both pattern and routine.

While Ms. Myrtle Elizabeth Warren haunted down the hill Mama Gimbosa was setting up her shop for the day preparing for those who would seek her wares inside. The shop sat perpendicular to the coffee shop where people would get their daily caffeine for the long work day ahead. Mama Gimbosa has had her shop here since the 40’s and not much has changed inside since then. Every morning herbs are brewed and candles are lit low. Remedies set out in their assorted jars sat cleanly on the shelves sparkling in the candle light beckoning the shopper. It was normal for the people of Null to come here when their spouse left them or their cat died. People knew this is where the witch worked and lived. Pattern and routine.

So to the town people, it was not all that surprising nor abnormal to see the town founder Helga Hufflepuff in the woods riding on horses with the Good People. Perhaps her face is paler and her cheekbones more defined but it was what it was a good few years later. When thunder roared and lightning struck the sounds of heavy hooves blew through the town so everyone could hear. Their good founder was still protecting them and so they went about their day knowing the pattern and routine.

Harry Potter did not find this to be pattern nor routine. In fact, they found themselves quite distraught. At the mere age of 13, Harry’s foster parent sat them down and told them the truth of where they had come from. It was no fault of Ms. Llewellyn that Harry had born different if not gifted in some ways but as a child of Magic she knew it was time to go back home and away from the city that was cruel. 

Harry had a lonely childhood at their school for no one wanted to play with the child who could do things. With striking green that glowed like a beast and skin nearly gold they stood out against the stark gray colours and cold steel. Wild hair that could spew flowers when the mood was light and happy and skin cold as ice when the mood foul it was not surprising when he was deemed freak and monster; it was time to move on. Now thirteen years and two weeks old Harry has found the source.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Possibly continue unsure as of right now


End file.
